Bruises
by Patrykowski der Jaeger
Summary: Black and Blue. Dillon and Flynn. Complete opposites. Flynn tries to learn to trust "Subject D-44" while helping him develop his own humanity; meanwhile, Dillon must learn to let go of his forgotten past and cybernetic nature. Someone's bound to bruise.
1. Monster

_**Chapter One: Monster**_

—_**Don't Look at Me Like That—**_

"He's a half-machine; practically one of the monsters we fight _every day_!" Ranger Operator Series Blue, also known as Flynn McAllistair, was screaming.

"He's also our teammate," his yellow teammate, Summer Landsdown, defended.

Of course she would defend him, the blue ranger was thinking bitterly; she was one of the many fascinated by this rebellious, tall, brooding, douche bag of a hybrid.

Flynn, personally, felt no feelings of attachment to the new Ranger Operator Series Black, nor did he think he'd ever warm up to him. He was arrogant, sarcastic, ill-tempered, and adolescently defiant. It was almost pathetic. Flynn, to say the least, could not stand the black ranger – or "Dillon" as they had been told to call him.

"Well yeah, but he could at least act like it! You don't just go and do the whole solo ranger thing in your first month!" Flynn argued.

Scott interjected, "Look, I agree with you, Flynn; but Dillon's helping. He stays back and handles the Grinders while we do our thing in our zords." The Red Ranger paused, "I'll admit he's got a _terrible _attitude, but he gets the job done…and he doesn't overtly break the rules."

Flynn sighed. "I'm just saying I think the guy's a bad idea. When Mr. Semi-Venjix goes ballistic on us all and that Rocket Blaster's pointed at one of you, don't say I didn't warn you."

"Highly improbable," Dr. K snapped as she entered the room. "Your hostility toward Ranger Operator Series Black is illogical and, for the most part, irrelevant; you don't need to like someone to work with them. For example: Ranger Operator Series Green."

"Oh it's not just a matter of _likin _the bloke; it's a matter of trusting him. He's got Attack Bot written all over his insides; am I the only one who sees that?"

"Yeah, I'd say you are."

Flynn felt his blood cool instantly. Though it was previously boiling, the sound of Dillon's voice rebounding off the steel walls of Ranger Ops was enough to send shivers down the blue ranger's spine.

"Dillon…" Summer was attempting to make an excuse.

"Don't bother," the black ranger cut her off, "_Ranger_ _Blue _clearly has something on his mind; why don't you elaborate?"

Flynn felt his hands clench into fists. "I'm sorry, but when you go off and pull stunts like you did; what, with you blasting like a madman and ignoring everyone else's safety like you're some medical expert, it makes me distrust you."

"Not to mention the fact that I'm part machine, right?" Dillon practically growled out.

"Well…"

"You know, you can hate me for a lot of things; like the way I act, or the way I don't work with you, or even the way I _talk_—those are all fundamental developmental things. But you can't just hate me because of something I didn't fucking want!"

By now, Scott, Ziggy, and Summer had all begun to creep forward to intercept the two arguing rangers in case it came to blows. Dr. K was giving them hardly a fraction of her attention. She no doubt chalked it up to their testosterone levels and penchant for creating inter-team drama.

"You think I _like _being part machine—to have my memories and my family torn from my hands by some computer virus? Is that what you think?"

Flynn was still speechless, all of his indignant feelings moot and nearly gone.

"I am **not** a monster," Dillon finished as he spun on his heel.

But before he left, before he took off for the garage, Flynn could have sworn he saw something reflective on the black rangers face. It wasn't the gleam of metal or some cybernetic implant; it wasn't some motor oil leak from the black ranger's eyes; it wasn't even a stray hair in those hazel eyes. No, they were teardrops; liquid formed by the secretion of saline through the lachrymal glands in response to either ocular irritation or, in this case, severe emotional distress. Dillon, Ranger Operator Series Black, was human. And he cried.

_**—That Boy is a Monster—**_

As Venjix would say, Subject D-44 was overly emotional. As Dillon himself would say, he was pissed. He had tried—really, honestly, and truly—to fit in with the rangers. He had taken on the role of Ranger Black and even done his best to adhere to Scott's ridiculous rules. He had endured the grueling social intricacies, and even grown to develop an affinity for every human on the team. He thought the same was true for the others. Flynn, on the other hand, was not of the same accord.

"Dillon," Summer whispered.

She was leaning in his passenger window again. God, he hated when people did that.

"Summer."

"You know, Dillon, usually when someone has an experience like that, they wanna talk about it."

"Yeah, well, I'm part machine." He looked at her with a scathingly content gaze, "I don't need, or want, to talk about it."

"You can't just shut us out like that."

He rolled his eyes. She was definitely right.

"Let's go for a ride," he grumbled.

She didn't speak, but she opened the passenger door and sat silently as he floored the gas.

Nearly 15 minutes later, he spoke. "I don't know what to do."

"Flynn's just afraid, Dillon."

"Afraid of what? What reason have I given _any _of you to be scared of me?"

"Not of you," she corrected, "of what you represent."

He glared at her.

"Not Venjix. The unknown."

Now his features softened as he looked at the blond yellow ranger. She was definitely the wisest of the group.

"Why do you do this?" Dillon asked. "Why do you chase after me, and…you know…help me?"

"You're worth helping," she smiled, laying a hand on his forearm.

The feeling was foreign to him. He had data on human copulation and the elaborate rituals of courtship, but he had never actually experienced either of them. What he did know is that he should have felt some stirring of emotion, but he felt his heartbeat and pulse remain exactly the same. Based on the heat radiating from Summer, however, that was not the case for her.

"So what do I do in the meantime?" he asked after a few minutes of quiet.

He was turning around now; heading back toward Ranger Ops.

"Just do what you've been doing; Flynn will take some time to get used to you. He doesn't know how to act around you, you know? Plus, there could be the jealousy factor."

"Jealousy?"

"Well, Scott's leader, Ziggy's the comic relief, and you're the mysterious one. Flynn is just…Flynn, you know? He might feel overlooked by your presence. Before, it was just me, Scott, and him—now there are two more guys on the team that he knows absolutely nothing about. Ziggy's not as intimidating as you are."

"Intimidating? Really?" he asked skeptically.

"It wouldn't kill you to smile sometimes."

"Smiles are a result of happiness; I'm not happy."

"Sometimes people smile just because, Dillon."

"I don't."

"That's the problem," she pointed out. "You're not very…inviting."

"You seem to like me just fine." He glanced down at her hand and she quickly removed it. "Sorry, that was…'awkward.'"

She cocked a grin, "yeah, just a little. You might want to work on that, too."

"I don't know how to _be _human. I don't remember it. You guys have had years to develop your humanity and all your social skills; I've been conscious of my being for about two months, and I've only been _around _other humans for one."

"Being human is natural."

"So is being a machine, for me."

"Forget the machinery, okay?" she finally snapped. "You're not a machine. You feel. You're sentient, okay? You're human. Stop trying to say otherwise."

He didn't respond.

For the rest of the ride, they were silent. When they returned to Ranger Ops, Dillon stayed in the car for several moments. He had so much to think about. All the data he had was on how to target human weaknesses—attachments, emotions, stress, deception, loyalty; the whole lot. Not one bit of data told him how to interact with a group of diverse people—only how to get them to all hate each other.

"Dillon…can I talk to you for a second?"

—_**He Ate My Heart—**_

_The song "Monster" is by Lady GaGa. _

_This is pretty much random, but I've been rewatching RPM and got really into it again; all the complications and intricacies and whatnot. From the first time I watched "Ranger Blue," though, I've always thought of a possible Dillon/Flynn pairing. This is just chapter one. And yes, every chapter is going to have a Lady GaGa title. Get over it :p. _

_Hope you like it!_


	2. LoveGame

_**Chapter Two: LoveGame**_

_** —I Wanna Kiss You…—**_

"Dillon…can I talk to you for a second?"

Dillon sighed, calming his nerves. Why was it that when Summer was present or wanted to talk to him—or even touch him—he felt nothing; but as soon as Flynn spoke one word to him that wasn't dripping with disdain, his pulmonary cavity began to feel smaller around his lungs as if he'd run a marathon?

"Yeah." He noticed how gruff his own voice sounded and subconsciously cleared his throat.

Flynn opened the passenger door, much like Summer had, and sat down. The garage was now nearly dark, save the light that escaped under the doorway of the main room of Ranger Ops.

"About earlier," the blue ranger finally began.

Dillon waited as the Scotsman got his thought process to a coherent state. Dillon's data indicated this was something called "anxiety," in which one could not form clear sentences due to the amount of nervousness clouding the brain's cerebral activity. He silently told it to shut up. If he was human, data would do him no good.

"I guess I never really thought of things from your perspective," Flynn admitted. "Those things you said back there, they really made me realize how ignorant I sounded…or _do _sound. Anyway, man, what I'm trying to say is that I don't hate you; I just don't know you."

Dillon was still quiet, but he realized Summer might call that uninviting. He nodded. It was somewhat clear in his data that humans depended too much on affirmation and acceptance. Maybe he would try that approach.

"Summer suggested it might be that we don't know anything about each other," Dillon finally conceded. "I think she's mostly right. You don't trust me because I haven't given you a reason to; and trust is pretty abstract."

Flynn stared in half-amazement. "Wow, I'm kinda speechless at that. How long did it take you to come up with that?"

"It was data."

Flynn looked confused.

"Never mind," Dillon said, rushed, "I know what you're saying. We probably have something in common—something that could help us jumpstart a form of friendship so we know more about each other."

"Well, we both obviously like cars."

"I don't think that's going to harvest trust."

Flynn frowned. "You're right."

Dillon looked sheepish, Flynn noticed. That was new. First the flash of anger, then the tears, and now, blushing?

"Are you blushing, man?"

"What?"

"Blushing? Your cheeks—they look a little rosy."

"Rosy?"

"You know, like, pink."

"No."

The dark environment must have been making Flynn imagine things. Dillon was absolutely sure he could not—and did not—blush. What would be the point of such a useless display of embarrassment? Why would he even feel embarrassed? There was nothing embarrassing about the situation. And why did his stomach suddenly feel like churning peanut butter?

"This is awkward," Flynn noted.

"Why does everyone keep saying that?" Dillon snapped. "What exactly is awkward?"

"This."

"But why? Is it because my cheeks are 'rosy?' Or because my stomach feels like boiling magma? Or that my palms are perspiring at an accelerated rate?"

Flynn looked taken aback. "Do I make you nervous?"

"What?"

"Those 'symptoms' you just described; that's classic nervousness," the blue ranger chuckled.

"Why would I be nervous?"

"I'm going out on a limb here, but is there something you want to say?"

"Like what?"

"I dunno."

"Well, you're different from the others. They don't make me nervous, even when they should."

"When they should?" Flynn questioned genuinely.

"Summer—she likes me."

"Ah, noticed that did you?" Flynn grinned.

"Unfortunately," Dillon responded sordidly.

"What? Why's that unfortunate? She's the only girl on the team—well, besides Dr. K, but…"

"My feelings for her platonic, as are they for almost everyone else."

"Almost?" Flynn furrowed his eyebrows. "You're not holding a torch for the good Doctor, are you? Cuz I gotta say, that's a little weird."

"No."

"Well, then…who…?" he let his question trail off as Dillon stared intently at the steering wheel in front of him.

"Oh, I see."

"I'm still not really sure about these…feelings…or whatever; I'm not sure how they work. All the data I have on being affectionate toward someone doesn't say anything about yelling at them or feeling as if you've contracted malaria."

Flynn laughed, so hard in fact, that his cheeks hurt when he finally stopped. "Malaria, Dillon? Really?"

"Sweaty palms, mild hallucinations, nausea, flushed complexion: all are signs of a malarial infection."

"It's called a 'crush,' man," Flynn pointed out. "The only sickness you might have is a little case of love sickness. And what can I say? I'm Scottish—everyone loves an accent."

Dillon shot him a look.

"My data says that rejection is usually more upsetting than this—that it usually leads to emotional distress or something."

"Rejection?" Flynn asked, bewildered.

"When the object of affection does not reciprocate the feelings of—"

"No, no, I know what rejection is, Dillon. I'm just wondering why you jumped to that conclusion."

"Well, you clearly didn't much like me in a platonic form about an hour ago, so I'm highly doubtful that you could actually 'reciprocate.'"

Flynn shook his head as he snickered at the black ranger. "Sometimes, we fully developed humans are more hostile toward the ones we have confusing feelings about."

Dillon looked to Flynn, whose voice had grown considerably quieter, and, to Dillon's records, almost "husky."

"Deception?" Dillon asked dubiously.

"It's called a front," the blue ranger responded as he looked to Dillon more carefully.

The two were silent as Dillon processed the new information. Then, from the corner of his peripheral vision, he saw Flynn move closer with just the upper part of his body. The man's face was less than 3 inches from his own now, and he wondered if he should be feeling extremely nauseous at that moment. Those last 3 inches before contact were more agonizingly interminable than anything he'd ever experienced.

Finally, a soft brush of the blue ranger's lips against his own. Dillon felt a jolt from the skin-on-skin contact and jumped, his own reaction startling him. Flynn, on the other hand, was highly amused by it.

"Why do I suddenly feel…jittery?" Dillon asked after several minutes of trying to catch his breath.

"You've got a boner, man," Flynn guffawed.

_**—Maybe Three Seconds is Enough…—**_

_So that's chapter 2. Comments/critiques are _greatly _appreciated; this is definitely a new style of story writing for me, so any opinion on the matter would be awesome. _


	3. Dance in the Dark

_**Chapter Three: Dance in the Dark**_

_** —He Won't Walk Away—**_

Embarrassed was an understatement. Flynn even felt for the big guy—no pun intended. It was endlessly hilarious, but Flynn could tell that Dillon did not find any humor in his current situation.

"I'm telling you, it's the accent," Flynn said, trying to ease Dillon's humiliation.

Dillon did not—could not—look at Flynn. So this was what hormones felt like? Even in his slightly neophyte state, Dillon could still process that this was not a normal situation between males.

"Dillon, really, it's okay," Flynn finally said, adapting a more serious tone. "It happens."

"It didn't happen to you."

"Well…I've got a bit more experience than you can remember," Ranger Blue said with a wink.

"Clever."

"In all seriousness, though, this was like your first kiss; and…since that usually happens at a younger age, it probably just…you know…sparked your hormones."

"So how do I make it stop?"

Flynn chuckled. "You don't just make it stop, now do you?"

"I…don't know?"

"You can't; it's a part of life. Hormones are pretty much uncontrollable; you just get better at making them, you know, less uncontrollable."

Dillon nodded. "How do I get better at it?"

Flynn detected the small grin trying to play at Dillon's lips. "You're a fast learner!"

Dillon was now all out smiling.

"Whoa, I didn't know attack bots were programmed to smile!"

"It must be the human in me acting out."

"Must be."

Dillon allowed his eyes to wander a minute before he tried to recreate Flynn's subtle torso movement into a kissing position. He half-succeeded, only because Flynn was expecting it. Then again, Dillon had absolutely no patience, so he was definitely incapable of lingering mere moments before closing the gap between their lips.

This time, Dillon was ready for the jolt of energy he received from Flynn's uncharacteristically delicate lips. The blue ranger was surprisingly gentle—more so than one would expect from a mechanic, that is. There was a movement of the blue rangers lips, and Dillon lost his bearings; he wasn't quite sure what to do at this point.

Ranger Operator Series Blue pulled back with a small smile.

"Just follow my lead," he said softly.

Dillon let his actions respond as they resumed their closeness. It was mildly awkward—leaning to the side and kissing—but Dillon paid very little attention to his comfort levels at the moment. For some reason, the only thing that mattered was Flynn. Like he couldn't be close enough. This was not something Dillon had ever experienced. People were usually _too _close, in fact. But even though their lips were pressed together and slowly overlapping each other and briefly meeting in a sort of dance, the blue ranger still felt too far away.

Then it happened.

Dillon felt something indescribably textured lightly rub across his upper lip. In spite of all his primary senses telling him to pull away, there was one sense—the hormonal one—that told him to stay. He thought a few moments before he realized what it was; it was Flynn's tongue flitting around like some kind of blind snake. Dillon almost chuckled at his analogy, but when he did part his lips, he felt the Scotsman's tongue brush across his teeth.

Dillon was sure he felt his breath hitch, but he attempted to relax as he followed Flynn's movements. Things were coming easier now, he noticed, but he felt a sense of urgency that he hadn't felt before. The—what had Flynn called it?—boner?—yes, the boner was back with full fury, and Dillon assumed it had something to do with this feeling of impatience he was experiencing.

Flynn began to move, though, and for a second, Dillon was afraid it was over. He was afraid that the one and only ranger who made him actually _feel _something was going to leave him hanging, wondering what was going on. But he did not. Instead, he did the one thing Dillon had actually secretly hoped for. He got closer. Never breaking their kiss, the blue ranger lifted himself from the passenger seat and over around Dillon's legs in the driver seat.

For a mere four seconds, their lips parted. It was all Dillon needed to notice the shift in weight and the pressure along his abdomen.

"You've got a boner, man," he mocked.

—_**Together, We'll Dance in the Dark—**_

"They've been out there a long time, are you sure one of them isn't, you know…dead?" Ziggy asked, shrugging.

"Negative, Ranger Green; if one of them had accessed the Biofield, I would know by now," Dr. K said exasperatedly.

"Hey, who needs to morph to kill a guy?" Ziggy enthused. "I mean, especially when you look like Dillon!"

"Guys, I'm sure they're fine," Summer said, as Scott was also beginning to get anxious.

"See, I'm not sure why you 'men' can't exhibit the same calm and logic as Ranger Operator Series Yellow," Dr. K sighed. "Women really are the superior species."

Scott exchanged looks with Ziggy.

"Maybe we should at least go and check on them?" Scott offered up.

"Negative, Ranger Red. If this process is to work, Ranger Blue and Ranger Black will need to forge a friendship on their own, without the help of the rest of you."

"So then what do we do?" Ziggy asked.

"Ranger Green, need I remind you that you still have hours upon _hours _of physical training to complete, not to mention the hordes of paper work you have neglected to fill out?" Dr. K took a breath. "If you really need something to occupy yourself that bad, be my guest with your obligatory duties; otherwise, go and…shower, or something."

While Dr. K's usual banter with Ziggy was normally a mood lifter for Summer, she couldn't help but worry somewhat about the situation in the garage. It was well past dark now, and the lights hadn't even been turned on. Moreover, she was wondering how Dillon would be able to have a conversation this long. It's not like they could have been working on their respective vehicles, as the lights were definitely off and there was no sound of tools or revving.

"Might as well turn in and let these two 'forge a friendship,'" Scott yawned. "We've got to be up at 0600 tomorrow to help Dr. K on configuring the ValveMax Megazord."

"Yeah, about that," Ziggy began. Summer could hear him rambling, but she was still focused on Dillon and Flynn outside.

"Summer, you comin?" Scott asked again.

"Yeah…on my way."

Dr. K rolled her eyes.

"Maybe _I'm _just the superior being," she muttered to herself.

_**—Make it Stop—**_

_The song "Dance in the Dark" is by Lady GaGa._

_I never expected this story to get so many hits and reviews in less than a day! It's exciting, haha. I usually write original-team stories, or action/adventure stories, but when I do write romance, it's usually Hunter/Dustin from Ninja Storm. No one on FFN really searches Ninja Storm anymore, haha. Anyway, here's chapter 3; I finished it last night with chapters one and two, but I wanted to wait to put it up. Good thing I did. Your reviews make me smile! So...leave one :).  
_


	4. Bad Romance

_**Chapter Four: Bad Romance**_

_** —You Know that I Want You—**_

Flynn leaned forward, as close to the black ranger as he could possibly be. While it was true he really had a strong dislike for the black ranger's attitude and origin, he couldn't deny the physical feeling of attraction toward the towering Venjix Hybrid.

After making himself almost all too obvious—at least in his own mind—he wondered how Dillon could even stand to talk to him, let alone feel for him. But Dillon had said the others made him feel almost nothing—nothing but a "platonic" feeling, right? Flynn made a mental note to ask Dillon about that later.

"Stop."

Flynn jerked back, his eyes fluttering open with surprise.

"What's wrong?"

"I feel weird," Dillon said slowly.

"Like…how so?"

"Pressured."

"Oh…I didn't mean to force it on you."

"No, not like that," Dillon snapped. Then he softened. "No…it's like my blood pressure skyrocketed; is that normal?"

Flynn grinned, suppressing the laughter that tickled his cheeks. Teaching Dillon the ropes of sexual behavior was proving to be immensely amusing. "Yes, Dillon, that's perfectly normal."

"Oh," he said, "okay."

And then he resumed their connection, surprising Flynn quite a bit. Fast learner was an understatement. He'd only just discovered how to kiss, and he was already becoming quite the expert—that could prove interesting in the future.

_**—And You Know that I Need You—**_

If urgency was what he felt earlier, Dillon could not describe the current exigency running through his veins. He felt that, at any given point, something was going to give way. He wasn't sure what, but he felt the pressure building. It felt odd. In a way, he could see as to how it could be pleasurable. But his impatience did not want to endure the waiting game. What was this new rushing sensation?

For some reason, he knew he should know these things. But it was like his data stream had ceased, like he just had a human instinct; it was frightening, to say the least—to live on basic instincts and to be utterly lost when it came to new topics. How he missed his data.

He pushed harder, though; deeper into the blue ranger's kiss. For once, though, he let his sense loose to see what it felt like to lose control. It was bliss. But his control was his basis, and he needed it; without it, he could go too far. He would cross the line.

Dillon pulled back slowly, short of breath as if he'd just completed some major athletic feat.

"I wanna try something," Flynn breathed slowly, "so just trust me here."

Dillon tensed up as Flynn closed the gap again. But instead of going for his lips, he missed by several inches. Now his lips were on Dillon's neck, which felt…odd? It tickled! In reflex, Dillon flexed his shoulder up, causing Flynn to jump back.

"Sorry," Dillon apologized quickly. "I didn't know I was ticklish."

"News to both of us," Flynn laughed. "Maybe we'll save that for another time."

Dillon looked quizzical.

"Cars aren't the only places to make out, Dillon," Flynn joked as he opened the driver door and dismounted Dillon with more grace than could be expected.

"'Make out?'" Dillon asked aloud.

_**—I Want it Bad, Like a Bad Romance—**_

"Nice of you to grace me with your presences, Series Blue and Black," Dr. K said sharply. "The other rangers have retired, as you'll need to be fully rested and ready to go by 0600 to finish testing on the ValveMax."

"Aye," Flynn chirped, the smile on his face seeming strangely out of place.

"Sure thing, Doc," Dillon responded after his blue teammate.

"Ranger Black," she said curiously, "are you…smiling?"

"It must be a motor reflex," he said deeply, glaring at her.

Dr. K didn't flinch. She wasn't stupid. And Dillon smiled again.

"Night, Doc."

So he followed Flynn's lead. After all, that's what the blue ranger had instructed him to do, correct?

It was dark in Flynn's room, but to Dillon's enhanced eyes, he could tell it was meticulously clean and organized. There was also a faint smell still lingering in the air.

"Why does it smell like…apple cinnamon?" Dillon asked curiously as Flynn shut the door.

"Air fresheners; otherwise, it smells like motor oil," he laughed.

"I see."

"So, now that your lips are free, why don't you tell me about yourself, Operator Series Black," Flynn joked as he plopped down on his bed and removed his shoes and jacket.

Dillon stood awkwardly. "Um, well, I've only been able to remember the past two months of my life. In that time I've learned several things about myself; I like candy, cars, and, apparently, you."

Flynn stopped fidgeting with his right shoe and looked at Dillon, who was focusing intently on the wall opposite him.

"Nervous again?"

"I'm not very good at this whole…'talking about me' thing," he responded after a few moments of silence.

He finally re-established eye-contact with Flynn.

"Well, that's okay, you got the important stuff out of the way," Flynn smiled. "I'm sure you have plenty of dislikes, no?"

"I _hate_ when people lean into my passenger window."

Flynn laughed.

"I also don't like seafood or the smell of it."

"Seafood? Really?"

"Really."

"You can sit, if you like," Flynn offered, motioning to a chair next to his bed.

Dillon awkwardly made his way to the chair. This new side of him, though, was intriguing. Flynn was having way too much fun to call it a night. To see Dillon acting—well…human—was refreshing. It was completely different than the vibe Flynn had originally received from the black ranger. One he liked.

Flynn noticed Dillon was still talking.

"I also dislike peanuts," he finished. "Maybe I just don't like crunchy food."

"It's a possibility," Flynn shrugged. "Maybe I'll make you a smoothie sometime; no crunchy surprises and whatnot."

Dillon grinned. "That'd be nice."

The hybrid let the silence settle in before he sighed.

"So, I think it's your turn," Dillon suggested. "You've got a whole twenty-something years of likes and dislikes."

"Twenty-two."

"Twenty-two. Do you have a birthday? Or was it just sometime twenty-two years ago?" Dillon asked wryly.

"Oh, I have one, but you'll never find it out."

"Fair enough; you'll never know mine."

Flynn chuckled, but continued to dish out information. The entire time, Dillon was silent. He would nod occasionally, but Flynn had a feeling it was more Dillon's way to make others comfortable—so they knew he was actually listening. Flynn, on the other hand, knew Dillon was listening. It was evident in the curiosity behind his eyes.

Ah, those eyes. That was the one thing that really made Flynn wonder how something so biologically complex could be cybernetically enhanced. They looked so natural, so alive. So human.

And the way he sat was interesting to Flynn as well. He wasn't as stiff as one would expect a cyborg to be. He was relaxed, Flynn noted. First time for everything, he guessed.

_**—I Want Your Love—**_

When the blue ranger looked at the clock again, he realized nearly two hours had passed. He'd yawned occasionally, but didn't think he'd seen the same reaction from Dillon. Did he sleep?

"Do you wanna sleep here?" Flynn asked tentatively as Dillon stretched to stand.

Dillon was hesitant. "I don't know much about being human…but I have a feeling it would be a bad idea to let the others know about the nature of our relationship."

Flynn smiled, but furrowed his eyebrows at the same time. "Well, I can agree there, I suppose; but why would we have to tell them you slept here?"

"At 0600, everyone will wake up and leave their respective rooms. When I don't leave mine but leave yours instead, they'll know."

"So you go back to your quarters at 0530," Flynn said as if the solution was simple.

"Did you plan all of this out in advance?" Dillon asked, a smile playing at his mouth.

Flynn grabbed his arm and pulled him down. "Just shut up already."

That's when Flynn first heard it. Dillon actually laughed. It wasn't a full-fledged laugh, but it was an audible chuckle—maybe even classified as a giggle. Then again, the thought of Dillon "giggling" was not a very realistic one.

"Oi! No shoes allowed in the bed, Ranger Black!"

Dillon easily complied, kicking them off as he slipped from his jacket. "Any other rules, Ranger Blue?"

Flynn's response was anything but verbal.

_**—And I Want Your Revenge—**_

_The song "Bad Romance" is by Lady GaGa._

_ So, I promise the plot is going to start moving soon; I was just having too much fun developing the characters. I don't buy that Dillon was automatically able to fit in as a human when he doesn't remember anything about his past—including human social norms. So…I made him a little bit like Seven-of-Nine from _Star Trek: Voyager_. So shoot me :p._

_ Reviews make me warm and fuzzy inside!_


	5. Again, Again

_**Chapter Five: Again, Again**_

_** —And I Can't Love You— **_

__Dillon was having trouble jumpstarting his body. Usually, he was a morning person. He could be up at 0400, 0500, or 0600, and still be ready to go for the day. But this morning was different. He was especially warm, he noticed, despite the fact that he was less clothed than usual. On the other hand, he realized his bed was a lot smaller than usual, as well.

He flicked his eyes open and realized there were arms wrapped around his waist and a head resting in the nape of his neck. Slow and steady breaths could be felt in thin wisps down his collar bone, and Dillon became aware that his own arms were drawn almost protectively around a firm and warm back.

A few seconds later, and Dillon's memory kicked in.

Flynn.

Subject D-44 smiled to himself as he unconsciously drew Flynn closer and nuzzled in. Then he saw the clock.

05:54 AM.

He was up in seconds.

"What the—?" Flynn exclaimed, looking around bewildered.

"We've got six minutes before we're supposed to meet Dr. K downstairs," Dillon said solemnly.

Flynn could hardly enjoy the silhouette of Dillon's solid, semi-nude form in the bit of light entering his room. Suddenly, his jeans were back on, his shirt was being pulled over his head, and then he was reaching for his jacket and shoes. Then he was gone.

Flynn was afraid of this. Had he moved too fast for Dillon? Was Dillon freaked out? Or was he genuinely concerned that they really had six minutes before being in the briefing room? Exasperated, Flynn rolled out of bed and began to dress.

—_**It Isn't Fair—**_

"Any luck with your sister's key?" Flynn asked tentatively.

He wasn't paying attention to the fact that he was leaning in Dillon's window—albeit the driver side rather than the passenger.

"It just…spins around," Dillon sighed, glaring at the pocket watch as if he were going to shoot lasers from his eyes at it. "It doesn't _do_ anything."

"Let me have a go," the blue ranger offered. "I'm-I'm your mechanic, after all."

"If I want your help, I'll ask," Dillon replied angrily, glaring at the blue ranger.

"Alright…"

He tried not to let the words sting as much as they did, but Flynn knew it was inevitable. Things hadn't exactly gone the way he planned—or either of them had planned, really. The Venjix virus attacking Dillon from the inside was making it harder and harder to be anywhere close to the black ranger, and even though they would occasionally share the same bed, they always woke up the same way. In separate beds.

It also hadn't helped that Flynn had done almost _too _good of a job at helping Dillon rediscover his humanity. It seemed as if he and Summer were growing closer than ever. In the situation they'd created for themselves, it wasn't much like Flynn could really _say _anything. The one time he tried talking to Dillon about it, he simply quoted one of their first conversations, saying he and Summer were friends.

"Platonic" was the word he had used.

It wasn't always bad, though. No, Flynn knew there were plenty of good times. Times when nothing else, even Venjix, mattered. When Scott and Summer would go off on personal leaves of absence, and Ziggy was off being Ziggy, it was just the two of them. Sometimes, if they were lucky, they could get the garage to themselves and just let down their defenses. It wasn't ideal, but it was what they had. Flynn enjoyed it. And he thought Dillon did, too. It was times like these where he'd have to tell himself it was the Virus making Dillon act this way—that it wasn't because he really disliked Flynn again.

So, to cover up the hurt, like he always did, he cracked a joke.

"Sooner or later, you're gonna step in manure."

Dillon finally made eye-contact again, but there was hardly a smile on his lips. And that was all Flynn could do. The blue ranger stood and readied himself to go upstairs when he caught sight of Summer. Despite the fact that all Flynn wanted to do was go and remember better times, he stayed and watched from afar. It was just that seeing Dillon so torn up about his sister brought an immeasurable pain to the Scotsman's chest that felt illogical.

And the way Dillon's mouth was always twisted into a frown. It was so rare that Flynn saw the smiles he used to see; or the laughter he'd only heard when the two were in private. He had so many memories of those nights, when the same lips that were worn thin and angry were creating so many happier feelings.

—_**I lose Myself Inside Your Mouth—**_

"_You know…these are mine now."_

_Dillon looked at Flynn with a raised eyebrow. "Really, now? Yours?"_

"_Aye."_

"_So, I save _your _ass today with my Invincibility Shield, but you're the one who gets to name demands?" Dillon asked skeptically, a small smile forming at the corners of his mouth._

"_Hey, that's not fair; my suit malfunctioned. And, _**might I add**_, it only malfunctioned because I was trying to buy _you _time while you fought your little girlfriend, Tenaya."_

"_Girlfriend?" Dillon mocked. "You're crazy. You don't get any ownership of anything of mine."_

"_Oh, come on," Flynn complained. "What do you need them for? To frown at people?"_

"_Maybe."_

"_Well what else do you use them for?"_

"_You, of all people, should know the answer to that," Dillon said lowly._

_Flynn feigned incomprehension. "I can't think of anything."_

_Dillon smiled and held his lips just out of reach of Flynn's. It was so very reminiscent of their first kiss all those months ago._

_And then Dillon bit Flynn's lower lip enough for the blue ranger to be shocked. But Flynn was not shocked. He was expecting it. And he pulled his "covert boyfriend" into him as he claimed his lips._

_When they broke momentarily, Flynn whispered "I'm keeping your lips, lad."_

—_**You've Got Brown Eyes Like No One Else—**_

"Can I sleep in here tonight?" Dillon asked, standing in Flynn's doorway, still fully clothed in his trademark black.

"Do you really have to ask permission?" Flynn asked, taking off his reading glasses and tossing aside his book.

Dillon grinned faintly. But it didn't reach his eyes, and Flynn could see it.

"Talk to me," he said gently.

Dillon sat, but his back was still to Flynn and he was rubbing his hands through his hair.

"It's just frustrating; everything leads to a dead end."

"Well not everything; sometimes things take a while to figure out, you know?"

Dillon didn't respond. When Flynn reached up slowly to rub his back with his right hand, he felt Dillon's back muscles tense.

"Relax, man."

It took a few minutes, but Dillon finally let down his shields. Eventually, Flynn was sitting behind his partner and Dillon had all but melted into his hands.

"Let's get some sleep, yeah?" Flynn suggested.

Slowly, Dillon began to undress, but he lacked any energy—any real life. He finally turned toward Flynn, his eyes somewhat wet.

"Why do you put up with me?" he finally asked the blue ranger.

The mechanic was all but speechless at this sudden display of emotion. He'd only seen Dillon cry once, and it was for all of point-seven-four seconds or something.

"What do you mean?" Flynn asked, concern flowing through his voice.

"I keep pushing you away."

"And I just push back," Flynn smiled.

"Why?"

"Cuz I care about you, genius."

"But why?" Dillon asked again, as if the question was obvious.

Flynn blinked. "There's no logical explanation to love."

"Love?"

Flynn panicked. "I mean, you know, like, love-like feelings. Not necessarily the actual thing!"

This time, ranger black did smile. In that brief portrayal of happiness, he was the most paradoxical form of beauty around. Flynn found himself nearly breathless at the sight: those golden brown eyes, the pearly whites, the faint lines in his face; everything. But to make it more surreal, Dillon whispered back to him.

"I think it's safe to say I love you, too, ranger blue."

—_**Your Eyes Changed from Kinda Green to Kinda Blue—**_

Dillon wasn't sure what caused him to be able to feel so deeply all the sudden, but he was glad he had a breakthrough. The Venjix Virus slowly taking over his body was making it harder and harder to resist the urge to hate everyone. He had no feelings of hostility toward any of his teammates, really; especially not Flynn. But for some reason, Flynn always bore the brunt of his aggression. He hated it.

But tonight was different. He had to make up for his actions earlier—for shutting out the only person he trusted completely when he was only trying to help. Flynn needed to know he cared, right? Humans were all about that reassurance factor.

When he moved to kiss him, the spark that was there in the very beginning was back. Flynn was electric again; like some sort of lightning rod in the middle of a thunderstorm. Every bit of him, every centimeter of skin, was on fire.

When Dillon pushed, Flynn pushed back, their closeness threatening to merge them into one solid being. But even when they could literally get no closer, each felt so far away. Maybe it was consummation they were both seeking. It had never been talked about, never been planned; it had, however, crossed each man's mind multiple times. What had Dillon's data called it? Ah, yes, copulation. It was evident in the passion overflowing from each ranger that they would be close in a way like never before.

In a swift motion, they wore nothing; two bodies pressed together in some sort of culmination of anatomical parts. In that moment, the pieces of the puzzle did not seem to fit; as if they were made from completely different puzzles and materials. But nearly half-an-hour later, the pieces began to come together to form a new puzzle all on their own.

Flynn reached up around Dillon's back, pulling him closer as the taller man loomed over him.

"You'd better know how much I trust you now, ranger black," Flynn gasped, gritting his teeth.

Dillon smiled down at Flynn, kissing him multiple times. He'd learned that the ticklish region in his neck was called an "erogenous zone," and that every human retained their own specific few, and maybe a few others. It turned out Dillon was one of those with many. Flynn, despite his efforts to deny his possession of any, was particularly sensitive nearly anywhere on his chest.

"I think I might've taught you too well," Flynn managed to say between breaths.

Dillon laughed again. "I thought I was just a fast learner?"

"Maybe a bit of both, eh?"

—_**Baby, Make it to Me—**_

The pain he'd experienced for the greater part of the last 10 minutes began to disappear completely. Flynn had always known—or maybe thought—that if they'd continued their "relationship" for more than a few months, sex would be inevitable. Surprisingly, Dillon had learned the ropes of sexual behavior at an excelled rate compared to the way he learned, say, social manners.

But at this very moment, they were one. That's how Flynn, saw it, at least. For the most part, they were two virgins discovering sex for the first time. Flynn had never crossed that boundary before, and, to their knowledge, neither had Dillon. New territory for them both that they'd set out to explore together. But the way they knew each others' bodies was what impressed Flynn the most. Each body was like a map of its own that the other had set out to memorize; and they had pretty much accomplished it. The uncharted terrain left to learn was unfolding—so to speak—right before them.

Flynn felt Dillon push forward ever so slightly, and the pain he'd anticipated never came.

Dillon cocked an eyebrow.

"Um…" Flynn stumbled, temporarily lost in something very much like pleasure. "Do that again."

Dillon snorted, but acquiesced to the request of his boyfriend. The unity they were beginning to form was breathtaking to Dillon. He never much understood the point of _actual _sex; there was so much pain and complication involved that he just assumed humans could continue to "hook up," as Flynn had called it. He had no problem learning the basics of "bases," and he seemed satisfied with it. Maybe that was why people said you don't know what you're missing until you've tried it. That must've been it.

He had never felt so close to anyone, even to Flynn, with whom he had felt pretty inseparable. But this was a completely different level. And now, arching over him so their faces could meet but that their bodies could stay aligned, he realized the beauty, pain, and pleasure of sex. Or maybe, what his data had equated to "making love." Is that what you would call this?

If it wasn't, Dillon didn't know what you would call making love.

—_**You Could Be Mine, Mine, Mine—  
—All the Time, Time, Time—**_

_The song "Again, Again" is by Lady GaGa._

_The first scene takes place right after "Bad Romance," but the second portion, right after the break, takes place during the episode "Three's a Crowd" of RPM. In other news… it finally happened! Haha! I don't really do erotica or the like, but romantic sex scenes are always very challenging and fun to do, so I hope I succeeded somewhat in that department. If you have any suggestions, please, feel free to drop me a line in a review!_


	6. Eh, Eh

_**Chapter Six: Eh, Eh**_

_** —Boy, We've had a Real Good Time—**_

__Flynn couldn't remember ever waking up so warm before. It was like someone had placed a space-heater all along his skin, replaced his pillows with something even softer and more delicate, and…

Flynn forced his eyes open, curious as to what the hell was in his bed.

Dillon.

He had actually stayed.

Flynn lightly kissed the black rangers chin, blushing to himself at how much different things had grown between the two of them. He could hardly believe they'd endured nearly a year of Venjix attacks, new additions to the team, and a rocky relationship with no clear cut boundaries. Talk about a long way to come.

Dillon inhaled deeply, groaning slightly as he began to wake up.

"Morning," he murmured, squinting at Flynn, who was smirking at him.

"Top of the mornin' to ya," he replied.

Dillon rolled his eyes and looked around. "What time is it?"

"No idea; some bloke unplugged the clock sometime last night."

Dillon glared jokingly, flicking Flynn's nose lightly.

"Judging by the fact that the sun is up, though…" Flynn continued.

Dillon shrugged. "Honestly, I'm too tired to really care."

Ranger blue blinked, almost confused. "Really?"

"Who's gonna knock on my door? Summer?"

Flynn subconsciously tensed, but let it go quickly. After last night, he was fairly certain that Summer was far from his competition.

"So you're going to spend the morning in here with me?" Flynn asked, somewhat skeptical and expecting the black ranger to jump up at any moment.

"Unless you want me to go," Dillon mumbled, letting his sentence trail off in faux-sadness.

"Oh, shut up," the shorter male retorted, pushing Dillon lightly.

The black ranger, who was slowly becoming Subject D-44 with every passing moment, allowed himself to bask in the happiness for once. Last night would never leave his memory banks, no matter what Venjix or anyone else tried to do. The sheer closeness he felt with the blue ranger now was almost overwhelming. In detailed terms, he'd literally been _inside_ him—one couldn't get much closer than that, Dillon assumed. The very same feeling still lingered in his memory and senses as he recalled it again and again in his mind.

All the "lessons" Flynn had taught him about pleasure had definitely paid off, and Dillon was not one to ignore attention to detail. He responded to his partner's every desire in any way he possibly could; not that Flynn made it difficult, though. Dillon felt his cheeks begin to burn as he remembered the outspokenness displayed by Flynn in the "throes of passion." He certainly hadn't been shy about instructing Dillon, which was somewhat of a surprise to the mentee; he hadn't anticipated such an elicitation.

"Do you feel okay?" Dillon asked abruptly, remembering the obvious response to pain Flynn had also portrayed.

The blue ranger furrowed his eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I know that you were in pain at first; I just wanted to make sure there were no…" the cyborg cleared his throat awkwardly. "Well, you know…injuries."

The accented ranger hooted richly before responding. "I'm a ranger, lad; it takes a bit more than you to permanently injure me."

Ranger Black raised an eyebrow. "Uh huh…that sounds kind of like a challenge, Mr. McAllistair."

"Take it how you want, Ranger Black," Flynn replied slyly.

_**—I Didn't Mean to Hurt You—**_

__Flynn could hardly focus on the mission Dr. K was describing. He kept catching Dillon's gaze and smirking fiendishly to himself. Some of the nearly unmentionable acts they'd taken part in were highly uncharacteristic, he thought; but they were by far the most fulfilling. It wasn't even that they were daring at all, because they pretty much stuck to the basics; it was more so the matter of it being the two of them actually engaging in these acts. Now, it was nearly impossible for Flynn to look at the black ranger without picturing him in a much less decent manner. He could tell Dillon was having the same issue by the attempted look of seriousness he was putting on. Every time he would glance at Flynn, it became harder for him to keep a straight face or steady gaze.

At least he knew that the mechanical implants in his body hadn't shut down his human passion.

When they returned from simply crashing their megazords together, the feeling of desire still hadn't left. It was like they'd opened up some beast within their bodies that craved only one thing: each other.

"I mean, seriously; I think this time, Dr. K has seriously lost it. I mean, she throws together all this crazy technology and expects us to just make it…'come together.'" Ziggy paused. "She's standing right behind me, isn't she?"

"Yeah," Flynn nodded, withholding his laughter.

The usual banter between the two love-struck opposites took place, as could be expected, and Dillon found he was able to still feign interest in what was at hand. At least he could offer up "smart-ass remarks," as Flynn had called them.

"It's more fun to watch you squirm," he said to Ziggy, who was slightly frustrated at the lack of help he'd gotten as a warning of Dr. K's presence.

"Incoming Venjix Attack Bot in Sector 8," the alarm system intrusively warned them.

Dillon felt his insides twist at the mention of Venjix, like they always did when the name was mentioned. For some reason, he took it personally. What would he do when the Virus controlled 50% of his body? He would lose independence and become more and more mechanical every day. What would happen to his relationship with Flynn? His friendship with the others? His ranger-hood?

But even after the battle, his worry stayed. The reckless behavior of Gem and Gemma didn't help much, either. He didn't much care for Scott's extreme cautionary ways, but even Dillon had to admit that Gem and Gemma's lack of forethought was disturbing—if not annoying. So as he watched the metallic-colored twins be chewed out by Scott, he reflected on when that had been him.

He remembered Flynn's words of disapproval at the black rangers "solo ranger thing," and had to grin to himself. If Scott honestly thought he could talk Dillon into reasoning with the boom-twins, the red ranger was even crazier than his hair.

But that was all he could honestly focus on. As soon as Flynn began to speak, Dillon reconfigured the speech pattern in his head, reliving the earlier morning's events, as well as those of the night before. He literally had to fight his facial muscles from forming a smile.

Meanwhile, Dillon's thoughts began to drift back to a few days earlier, when he and Summer had almost kissed. His feelings for the yellow ranger had most definitely changed, but he wasn't quite sure how much they superseded platonic. And she certainly wasn't making it any easier for him to analyze the situation.

On the other hand, she had indefinitely become his best friend aside from Flynn. She was the one he went to about problems he didn't quite feel like sharing with Flynn—mostly because he didn't want to worry the blue ranger. Even though Summer was _constantly _worrying, it was easier to reassure her that he was fine than it was to lie to Flynn. That had proven almost impossible, Dillon found.

Maybe telling Summer about his relationship would be the perfect way to even things out. He would not only gain Flynn's trust in the degree that they were no longer entirely "secret," and that Summer would know the relationship she had with Dillon was _always _going to be nonphysical.

But he'd gotten sidetracked. Suddenly, his memory was being flooded with flashbacks. Maybe it was the recent increase of Venjix Virus in his body; or maybe it was just the fact that he'd been "online" for almost a year. While Flynn, normally the only person to be able to hold Dillon's attention, was berating him jokingly about the dirt trapped in the Fury, he merely dropped _something_ that sent Dillon back who knew how many years.

He had just had the words forming in his mouth. He was going to surprise Flynn and Summer. He was going to simply say something clever—probably sarcastic in his "Dillon Way" to drop the news. Something along the lines of: "Are boyfriends always so meticulous?" or "Summer, would you date someone who was such a perfectionist?"—to which he would answer after her and say, "I would…and am." **Anything** would have been better than an unwanted flashback.

"I think I just almost saw my sister," he replied to Summer, who had just asked if he was okay.

Not exactly the words he'd wanted to say.

_**—I Never Thought We'd Fall out of Place—**_

__Flynn may have been a simple mechanic, but he was _not _stupid, especially in the social department. He knew something was wrong between him and Dillon. He needed to be close with him. The lack of togetherness they'd had lately was starting to drive him insane. Every word the black ranger said seemed to have Flynn on edge—ready to jump his bones at any given moment. It was almost scary. He didn't exactly know that losing his virginity would present such a large future obstacle: self-control.

"I'm sure Scott's fine, just give the guy some space," Dillon had said to Summer, who, as usual, was panicking about one of her male teammates.

Flynn could never recall a time when he'd been hostile toward Summer, but she was really starting to irritate him lately; what, with her not-so-subtle advances on Dillon and such.

Summer shrugged and joined them in their walk to the kitchen. Flynn had to think of an excuse to get away; and fast.

"Hey, Dillon, would you mind looking at some specs I wanted to show to Dr. K? I don't really wanna show her my rough draft cuz she sorta hates when I do that. She says I have chicken scratch."

Dillon smirked. "I guess I could help with that."

Summer looked as if she was going to say something, so Dillon quickly threw out an appeasement.

"Hey, Summer, after I'm finished helping Flynn, do you wanna help us finish cleaning the Fury?"

She smiled quickly, "Uh, sure!"

"See you then."

And they were off, quickly climbing the stairs and retreating into Flynn's bedroom. Only seconds had passed before they were embracing each other, clothes being torn off, zippers being undone, unbuttoning taking place, and kisses hastily being placed.

Flynn's mouth had already found its way to Dillon's neck, to which the black ranger did not object; he'd actually grown rather accustomed to the feeling and learned to control the impulse of snapping his shoulder up in protection.

Meanwhile, Dillon led Flynn to the bed without even having to open his eyes; he knew the room like the back of his hand by that time. As soon as his back hit the bed, he pulled the blue-eyed ranger to eye-level and took his mouth with his own again. Any flashbacks Dillon may have had throughout the day, or previously, had all but faded away and been replaced with a burning desire to be a part of the blue ranger again.

It wasn't like Flynn had intended on losing control so easily, but he didn't know how much time they had; and from their previous experiences, this was no short task. As they were both pretty meticulous men, their attention to detail showed in everything they did—especially when it came to pleasing.

He was now moving down Dillon's torso again, still finishing the undressing procedure, and trailing kisses in his wake. It wasn't long before he found his mark. Times like these were the only time he could get Dillon out of his shell—to get him to embrace his humanity much more than he ever would any other time. Flynn considered moans and the like to be a reward of sorts, and it was what he aimed for every time; especially when they came from someone as reserved as Dillon could sometimes be.

But it was over before it could develop. Dr. K was calling them to the War Room, and Dillon knew it had something to do with Scott. How he hated the red ranger in that moment.

_**—I Wish You Never Looked at Me that Way—**_

__With information about his sister so fresh on his mind, Dillon could not find the time to concentrate on Flynn. The drive he'd had before to be around, on, or even inside the other ranger, was completely suspended by his drive to find the only family he knew of. Flynn was not happy, to say the least.

"Are you sleeping here or…?"

Dillon was gritting his teeth, the blue ranger could tell.

"I…I can't really sleep, lately; I don't want to wake you up in the middle of the night," Dillon said. It was partly true.

"You never do; and if you did, I wouldn't mind," the short-haired male responded with a small smile. Flynn was nearly pleading, but he was trying to preserve his pride just a little.

"I think I should probably just…stay."

Exasperated, Flynn ground his own teeth together. "Look," he paused and pulled Dillon into his room, shutting the door; "I know you're torn up about your sister, and I know sex probably isn't one of your priorities right now. But I'm not asking you to sleep with me so we can screw, I'm asking you to sleep here because I want to sleep next to you."

Dillon did look torn, Flynn noticed. But immediately, the emotion playing across his face was replaced with a steel resolve. The blue ranger prepared himself. He knew "Subject D-44" was about to address him.

"I said no."

But this time, Flynn couldn't take it. He was done. He couldn't continue to be pushed away. He had always pushed back—in his own subtle ways, to let Dillon know he was there no matter what—but when did Dillon ever push in response to him? When did Flynn get to call the shots?

"There are two people in this relationship, Dillon," Flynn half-shouted to Dillon, who had already turned his back to walk out the door.

The black ranger stopped cold, turning around ever so slightly.

"It can't be all about you all the time," Flynn continued boldly.

"This isn't about me, it's about my _sister_!"

"And I'm _trying _to help you, man, but you don't make it easy. You always want to be alone with your thoughts, and let me tell you, that's never healthy."

"What would either of us know about being healthy? This is clearly not healthy," Dillon said quietly.

Flynn was silent, a look of astonishment plastered on his face.

"This—this—bad romance we've drafted up like it's supposed to work perfectly; it doesn't. I can't deal with all of this at once. On one end I've got this virus manipulating me more and more, on the other I'm missing my sister, and then here, in the middle, I'm fighting with you nearly half the time."

Now, Flynn was furious.

"Have you completely gone mad?" he spat. "The only reason we fight is because you would rather go and run to Summer instead of tell me anything. The wee-bit of information I do get from you, I practically have to yank out of your mouth. You might call it a 'bad romance,' or whatever, but just remember who the author is—the one who doesn't know shit about romance!"

Dillon clenched and unclenched his jaw several more times.

"We're done."

"Oh, that's convenient," Flynn retorted hotly. "Almost a year later and you decide to tell me we're just done. Just like that? That's fair."

"Fair doesn't mean anything to me," Dillon fired back. "And it's not like the concept of time has any effect on me; I'm turning into a machine. And I don't know shit about romance."

_**—There's Nothing Else I Can Say—**_

___The song "Eh, Eh (Nothing Else I Can Say)" is by Lady Gaga. _

_ This chapter takes place during RPM episode 19 - "Three's a Crowd." It was, by far, the hardest chapter to write of this story. And not just because of the fight, but because I had no idea how to lead up to it! I didn't want to go from "I love you"s to "we're done"s without a proper transition. Besides, then you guys would only have gotten a 2 page chapter. And I'm pretty sure that's not fair :p. Plus, I could __**not**__, for the life of me, decide which Gaga song to use here; but when I listened to "Eh, Eh" again, it was evident it was perfect._

_ Anyway, thank you all so much for your reviews, I do hope you keep them coming; they really motivate me to write more! _


	7. Speechless

_**Chapter Seven: Speechless**_

—_**Could We Fix You if You Broke?—**_

Dillon was lightly kissing along the side of Flynn's neck, his hands—tough but soft all at once—dipping just above the blue ranger's hips in an almost teasing fashion. His fingers pressed along Flynn's spine, going higher until Flynn's back could arch no higher. The pressure and delight were so overwhelming that he had to grip the other male's back to make sure he could cling to reality.

Flynn felt his pants loosen as they were deftly undone, but Dillon never stopped his blissful assault on the various portions of the Scotsman. But Flynn needed his lips. They were, after all, his, right?

Just as Dillon began to move inferior to Flynn's abdomen, the blue ranger pulled him up almost desperately, wanting so badly to see those same brown eyes he'd stared into so many times.

But they glowed bright red, the flecks of cones and rods around the colored ring being replaced with streams of venomous data.

"I'm turning into a machine. And I don't know shit about romance."

Flynn woke up in his bed, startled, and his body covered in a cold, sickly sweat that made him shiver and pant at the same time. Taking a gulp of fresh air, he looked to the empty spot in his bed and then at the alarm clock to his left. Nearly 4 am. He exhaled deeply and threw himself back down on his bed, his usual thoughts resuming their brutal pace.

It had only been less than a week, and he was already plagued with thoughts of what went wrong; how it went wrong; why it went wrong. But all he kept coming back to was those fucking eyes. And that pair of lips. And those ivory teeth. And that flippy brown hair. And that deceptively soft skin.

Flynn groaned to himself. Even past the superficial surface of Dillon, there was that being inside that Flynn was getting to know so well—a being that he felt proud to say he helped cultivate. Dillon was ominous at times—even depressingly so—but he was also childishly curious and enthusiastic about things no one would have ever guessed. He was witty, where some people would call him sarcastic; he was sensitive where others would call him dramatic; and he was more tender and gentle than Flynn would have thought possible.

But now he was done. Gone. Given up. And the words Flynn tried to form to get him to reconsider just never came. And the blue ranger knew above all how stubborn Dillon could be.

—_**And I Know that it's All Complicated—**_

Dillon twisted his sister's key again, the same result occurring. He tried turning left, right, and even turning while pulling or pushing—still nothing. Even his own tune no longer assuaged him, and he felt a gaping hole begin to form where he knew all the warm memories he'd created over the past year should have been.

But he was able to ignore it. He found that if he actually embraced the Venjix virus temporarily, it would block out thoughts of Flynn, and their argument, and everything else they'd shared in the past year. But tonight wasn't one of the nights where he felt like embracing it. The checkup Dr. K had performed revealed the virus was still spreading; nearly 30-percent of him was now robotic. And feeling human was a slight relief from all the technology he was surrounded by.

It also wouldn't help to think of Flynn.

Dillon knew his feelings for the blue ranger were hardly logical—even the data he had previously examined proved to him that love was by far the most illogical human emotion around. That definitely explained his behavior, at least. It had gone on for nearly a year, and even approximation would only reinforce the idiocy he now felt. He was a Hybrid—Venjix technology mixed with the bio-stability of a human. Machine first, human later. Why did he think he could have a normal relationship? If Flynn had ever been right about anything, it was that Dillon knew nothing about romance.

The black ranger hurled his watch at his closet, listening to the ringing it created after ricocheting off the alloyed door. The sound was at least somewhat distracting. But it didn't change a thing. The only drive he had now was to find his sister and destroy Venjix. Maybe then, he could overcome the virus. And maybe then he could learn something more about romance.

—_**But I'm a Loser in Love, so Baby…—**_

He hadn't really noticed, but in all the time he spent with Dillon, Flynn had almost isolated himself from the rest of the team. Sure, there was a conversation here and there, and things weren't awkward…but he didn't have that one person to hang out with all the time.

After his more than gigantic blunder in the battle earlier, he'd realized how messy he could make things by assuming he knew everything. He was overconfident in his abilities. And that had pushed Dillon away in the end. Flynn had grown so used to teaching Dillon everything that he automatically assumed he knew what was best. But he was wrong. And now that Gemma was helping him, he began to take new perspective on things. Her analysis of Summer also gave him a new insight.

"I think Summer totally cares for Dillon," Gemma was saying. "But I think it's from more of a sister perspective. Maybe even a mother."

"No, she definitely wants more than a sibling relationship with him," Flynn replied shortly. "I just don't get it, though; I thought that's what Scott was for?"

"Scott _loves_ Summer!" Gemma enthused. "It's clear as day."

"Well, I don't think Dillon's interested in her," he said defensively.

Gemma, despite her immature candor and impulsivity, was actually quite intuitive. "You and Dillon spend a lot of time together, don't you?"

Flynn stopped twisting his screwdriver and glanced at her.

"We're friends."

"That's not the feeling I get," Gemma said shyly.

Flynn looked at her, bewildered. How did she know?

"What do you mean?"

"I see the way he looks at you, you know. And how you two always try to stand very far apart from each other," she giggled. "It's kind of cute, because it's so funny looking to me. Maybe it's just because I don't know you guys that well, and that's why I'm able to see it."

Flynn opened and closed his mouth two or three times, unable to come up with a response.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Gemma asked, her voice going much more concerned and serious.

—_**Raise a Glass to Mend All the Broken Hearts of All My Fucked Up Friends—**_

"And that was pretty much how it ended," Flynn said slowly, setting his empty glass down on the bar top.

Gemma took a sip of the whiskey Flynn had given her and patted his hand. "Have you tried to talk to him about it?"

"No," Flynn responded gruffly. "He won't even look at me."

"Well…you were kind of harsh," Gemma pointed out. There was that candor again.

"Aye, and that's why I don't know what else to say. It's like I'm speechless or something."

"Maybe if you just told him you made a mistake, he might forgive you?"

"You don't know Dillon like I do," Flynn responded with a mock laugh. "Apologies aren't just 'apologies' to him."

"Flynn, no offense, but…you probably broke his heart."

Flynn poured another drink and clinked glasses with Gemma. "Aye, that I did. And it kills me, cuz I know that if I'd been a little more patient, things would have gone differently. I guess I was too needy."

Gemma frowned. "I didn't say it was _entirely _your fault," she said. "Dillon is kind of a my-way-or-the-highway guy; I can tell that just from the past few weeks. I'm sure you were more than patient, Flynn."

He shrugged and sipped on his drink. "Do you think I should go talk to him?"

Gemma bit her lip as she thought. "I think it couldn't hurt."

Flynn smirked at his new friend. "You are no help, you know that?"

Gemma made a face and downed the rest of her drink, and then patted Flynn's back as she stood. "Go talk to him."

So Flynn finished his drink, making it last as long as possible, and sat watching the droplets fall back down the glass. He had so many thoughts running through his head, but none of them seemed like they would sound good when he went to actually speak. None of the thoughts made sense, it seemed. It was like the words all blurred together to make the sound of "I miss you." But he knew that wouldn't be enough. He knew Dillon would respond coldly. In fact, he knew the response would be something like, "you see me all the time. We live together." Yeah, it would most definitely be that.

Sighing, the blue ranger stood from the barstool and carried his and Gemma's glasses to the sink. Despite the fact that liquid courage was supposed to help, Flynn found the prospect of talking directly to Dillon again mildly horrifying and sobering. He knew Dillon wouldn't attack him. He knew no physical harm would be endured. But somehow, he almost wished the fight they were having had been physical—that way there would be a clear-cut winner, a resolution, and a way to know where the wounds were. This internal struggle was not Flynn's style.

—_**Would You Give it All Up, Could You Give it All Up?—**_

Dillon heard the faint rapping at his door, but he wanted to pretend he was asleep; anything to avoid any further contact with anyone. He had torn himself apart with the extensive memories he had on his time with Flynn. One good thing about the data stream placed in his brain was the detail to memory he had—every fine point was recreated to near perfection. And it hurt so bad to see them again. To hear his own laughter echo in his head. To see Flynn smiling, kissing, mocking…yelling. It was all too much, but the black ranger pressed on. He wanted this. He wanted to feel.

Again with the knocking.

He ignored it once more and went back to his memories. There was the very first kiss, right in the front seats of Dillon's one and only car—the Fury. They had thrown caution to the wind, and Dillon faintly touched his own lips as he remembered the spark of passion that always lit his mouth ablaze when it was in contact with Flynn.

Dillon's door opened slowly, and he was on his feet in seconds.

"What do—" he stopped short when he saw Flynn standing there sheepishly.

"Hi."

"I'm sleeping, do you need something?"

Flynn didn't respond. He'd racked his brain for at least another hour before he mustered up the courage to confront Dillon, but even then, his words made no sense. It was beyond words. He could only show Dillon how he felt. So he closed the distance between their bodies and felt the heat radiating off Dillon like he was on fire. He looked up into Dillon's confused and mildly concerned eyes. And then he kissed him—simply, softly, sensually. When he pulled back mere seconds later, he looked up at Dillon's eyes again. They were Flynn's brown eyes. The ones he remembered. The ones that haunted him. Those goddamned eyes. But they were there.

"You." And then another simple kiss to prove his point.

"We know how this goes, Flynn," Dillon whispered, his voice low and almost gravelly.

Flynn kiss again.

"I don't care," Flynn responded. Then he laid another.

"We're just going to end up hurting each other again."

Kiss. "I don't care." Kiss.

And before Dillon could say anything more, Flynn had pushed him back onto the bed. And when they began to drift off much later, neither one dared to think of what was going to happen in the morning. It didn't matter. It was just the present. That's all that mattered. As long as they could find a way to be together, nothing else would need to matter. Patience, communication, trust; all the necessary ingredients for a healthy relationship—none of it really mattered. And Flynn found it funny that he'd only needed to speak five words to bear his soul.

—_**I'll Never Love Again  
So Speechless  
You've Left Me Speechless  
So Speechless—**_

_The song "Speechless" is by Lady Gaga!_

_And this is one of my favorite songs, so I wanted this chapter to capture the moment. But I'm kind of wary about it. So, you tell me! I know it _looks _that way, but this isn't the last chapter; there's one more. Props if you can guess which song I'm going to use. _


	8. Brown Eyes

_**Chapter Eight: Brown Eyes**_

—_**In Your Brown Eyes—**_

It took Flynn a few moments to get his bearings, as this room was most definitely not his own. And he was alone, which was odd. The throbbing in his head wasn't so odd, he figured, as he could easily remember having a bit too much to drink last night.

"What time is it?" he groaned to himself, checking the small clock that wasn't unlike the one he had in his own room.

The numbers 12 and 24 were clearly displayed in bright blue numbers that seemed less blinding in the semi-lit room. Slowly, the memories from the night before began to tumble back into his grasp. He could remember gathering courage for at least an hour before stumbling up to Dillon's room. The black ranger had no doubt tasted or sensed the alcohol lingering on Flynn's breath from the drinks previously downed with the team's silver ranger, Gemma.

Silently, the blue ranger berated himself as he slowly began to dress. He was confident they did not have sex the previous night—that he would either remember or feel. He knew for a fact, however, that he had been as intently passionate toward Dillon as he could possibly be. Hopefully, Flynn thought, it was enough to sway the black ranger's anger.

"Morning," Dillon said, startling his shorter lover.

Flynn jumped, cursing to himself and all of holy Scotland. "You scared the living shit out of me!"

Dillon smirked, but in a flash it was gone. "I was coming to see if I was going to have to resuscitate you or something. You've been out for almost 10-hours."

"Really?" Flynn asked, rubbing his head. "Totally doesn't feel like it."

"Well, sleeping beauty," Dillon said, somewhat softer and taking a few steps toward Flynn, "we've got a ceremony to get to. Corinth is unveiling some new plant that's officially ready to open and Doc K wants us standing by in case of emergency."

Flynn finished slipping on his pants and slowly made eye contact with his taller love-interest.

Dillon slowly leaned in and kissed him. "I'm glad you came to me last night."

Flynn blinked after the tender kiss and nodded. "It took me a while to think of what I was gonna do, but…guess it all worked itself out, then?"

Again, the black ranger grinned and turned to stand by Flynn's side. "Come on, let's go."

—_**Walked Away—**_

If there was one thing Flynn wanted more for Dillon than for him to be cured of his mechanical disease, it was for him to find his sister. That had always been Dillon's goal since the moment he and Flynn had met.

But Tenaya? Really?

"And now he's off on some booby-trapped mission with her!" the blue ranger was half-screaming.

Gemma looked at him sympathetically. "I know it's hard to trust her, but it's his sister; of course he's going to take that leap of faith, you know?"

Flynn continued to pace silently.

"I would do it for Gem," the silver ranger finished quietly.

Sighing, the Scotsman threw his hands up. "How am I supposed to be happy for him when his sister is the one that's been trying to destroy us for the past year?"

"Look, it's hard, but we're not supposed to trust Tenaya; we're supposed to trust Dillon," Summer pointed out, stepping into the garage.

Flynn looked nervous now, afraid that his secret life with Dillon had just been unraveled.

"It's not that I would normally distrust him," Flynn corrected cautiously, "it's just that I think his judgment might be a little bit…impaired."

Summer caved, letting a display of emotions run across her face. Flynn knew she felt the same.

"We just have to hope for the best, I guess," Ranger Operator Yellow admitted.

If there was one thing Flynn had learned in the past year, it was that hoping for the best only changed the current disposition so much. He could hope all he wanted, but unless he took action, he would see no results. Especially with Dillon.

Despite the moment of passion they both shared the previous night, Flynn was beginning to think that wordlessly expressing himself hadn't helped to the extent that he'd hoped. Especially now that Dillon was all sorts of shaken by the revelation of his sister's identity.

Flynn now knew that there was a lot left unsaid that desperately needed voicing—that their relationship could never be truly fixed and healthy until they addressed their real problems. There was hardly any trust on either side, not to mention the fact that they each had their own horde of problems. As rangers, shouldn't little emotional problems be easier to tackle than, say, a psychotic robot monster?

—_**Couldn't Stay—**_

"I seem pretty cozy with Summer?" Dillon asked incredulously. "You and Gemma look pretty damn close!"

"She's my best friend," Flynn defended hotly.

"And Summer is mine!"

"Well, I don't know about you, Dillon, but I don't usually kiss my best friends."

"I did not kiss her!"

Flynn stared at Dillon hopelessly. "You can't tell me you don't notice how mad she is about you, can you? Not honestly, I mean."

"Flynn," Dillon snapped, "It doesn't matter _what _she feels for me; I don't care about her that way."

"Well, to be honest, it makes me right uncomfortable for you to hang out with her all the time when she thinks you're single _and _straight."

"So you want me to tell her?" Dillon demanded skeptically.

"I don't know!" blurted Flynn exasperatedly. "I just want some shred of credibility. We don't trust each other."

Dillon paced the small room, glaring at Flynn on occasion, who was sitting on the bed warily. It looked like he was going to spring toward the door at any given moment.

"I don't mean to bring up the past, but Dillon…ever since Tenaya came into the picture, things have gotten worse between us."

"Because you don't trust her!" Dillon argued quickly.

"She tried to KILL us!"

"Because she was programmed to."

"So were you, and you fought it."

"No, I didn't; Dr. K did," Dillon said with finality. "This isn't even about Tenaya, or Summer, or Gemma; it's about us."

Flynn didn't say anything as he turned away slowly.

"We're still fucked up, aren't we?"

"I'd say so, yeah," Dillon responded quietly.

—_**If Everything Was Everything—**_

Despite the quietness of the city, Dillon's head was filled with a constant buzzing. He could feel the virus clawing at every living portion of his body, trying to turn him into a robotic drone who would bend to Venjix's every whim.

"Are you okay?" Summer was asking him, displaying her face of worry that seemed to always be ready to comfort someone.

"It's in my head," Dillon answered shortly.

But there was no time for discourse. When the attack bot showed in the middle of their path, the time for talk was long since past. Venjix was already declaring his victory over the last free city of Earth, and if the walking Virus was out and about, the rangers could only gather one conclusion: he was going all out.

"Dr. K…" Ziggy whispered half to himself. He knew the plan before it had even unfolded and took off as fast as his little legs would carry him.

Dillon, on the other hand, could hardly move with the virus attacking him, and he doubled over in pain before he could join the others in morphing. In his head, all he could clearly recall is that he needed the antidote. And he needed it immediately.

"Where's Dillon?" Summer called out above the commotion of battle.

Flynn could barely hear her, but in his mind he was screaming at her to shut up.

"He'll have to take care of himself!" Scott verbally responded, fighting off enemies.

"But he _needs_ us!" she cried.

Flynn slammed his fist into a Grinder, imagining it was Summer.

In all honesty, he could not see how she would allow herself to sound so pathetic in the middle of battle.

—_**But Everything is Over—**_

Dillon swerved the Fury into the garage, his driving reckless and his breathing even more so.

The Black Ranger stumbled through the various tools and equipment until he came face to face with Venjix. In any normal situation, Dillon knew his months of bottled rage toward the computer-crippling-force would have overwhelmed him; but in his virus-induced stupor, he was barely fit to stand.

"Ah, Subject D-44; good to have you back."

That was all Dillon could take before he collapsed, his will just about crushed. He blinked once, twice, and let his lids stay shut for just a moment.

"Just a moment," he was repeating to himself in his head.

But he felt like hours passed in his brain. He cycled through his memory banks of the last year, grasping for something to help him. It was something Doc K had told him; that the will to live was by far one of the strongest weapons.

He grabbed the ledge of a table, snatched the antidote, and thrust it into his hand.

—_**Everything Could Be Everything—**_

"Gemma!" Flynn screamed as he watched the Mach Megazord take the blast meant for him and Summer.

He watched them go down, and watched Venjix creep closer, preparing to annihilate them once and for all.

Just as Flynn and Summer arrived, they could see the trace energies of the bio-field outlining Gem and Gemma—Gold and Silver respectively. He heard them mutter something useless about wanting to keep fighting, but he couldn't hear past the bells of rage ringing in his head.

"No, no, no; it can't be!" the blue ranger heard his voice state incredulously.

But then they were gone. And so were Gem and Gemma. He saw Scott's face contort into anguish, and held Summer as she turned her head into his shoulder. They were really gone.

"Scott, Flynn, where are you guys?" Dillon's could be heard through Scott's communicator.

"We're in the Industrial Park…or what's left of it," Scott said solemnly. "Dillon," he pressed on, "we just lost Gem and Gemma."

"Lost? What do you mean lost?" Series Operator Black barked back, confused.

Flynn felt his anger begin to build again. If Dillon was pulling his cybernetic-anti-humanity act at a time like this…

"They're gone," Summer sniffed.

Dillon was silent for a moment, and Flynn allowed himself to listen intently for the response to come. What he heard did not appease him in the least.

"I'm sorry," Dillon began, "but we don't have time to feel sorry for ourselves."

The Blue Ranger Series Operator snatched Scott's morpher, angrily yelling into it. "Have you got no heart, man?"

Summer involuntarily flinched at his tone as she watched the Scotsman's agony become clear.

"Gem and Gemma are _gone_!" A silence. "I still can't believe it."

On the other end, Dillon's own agenda was taking shape. With his humanity fully restored, he was without his data stream; he had no way to know how to comfort someone coping with loss.

"Then believe this: Doctor K and Ziggy are about to be next."

—_**If Only We Were Older—**_

Killabyte had been right about one thing; Dillon's family was dysfunctional—no arguing there. But his family was _his_, and that was all he needed.

He just wasn't prepared for the blast that knocked him into this dream-like state he was in. He could hear, vaguely, the voices around him. He knew he must have been back at HQ, because Doctor K was talking about his now-harmless implants having frozen up from the impact of the blast. She went on to say she had no idea when he would come out of it. He wanted to scream, to say he was fine and that he was going to wake up, but he could not. It was like something was holding him down.

"You're the only one who can do it," Summer was now saying. "Venjix still thinks you're Tenaya 15, his loyal servant!"

"But I'm _not _Tenaya, am I?" his sister snapped back. He could sense the hurt in her voice, though. "I don't know who I am."

Though he couldn't see her, Dillon could feel her eyes on him now, as if they were urging him to respond to her.

"He never gave up on me. He always believed I was worth saving." He heard a pause. "I can't leave him."

Her answer was final, and it was almost weird how similar their arguing skills were.

"We have to find another way," Summer reported to Scott and Flynn. Flynn was _not_ happy.

"There _is _no other way!" Dillon counted the footsteps until his boyfriend was upon his sister. "Look, if you wanna save Dillon, we have to desetroy Venjix. If you wanna help him, you've gotta help us!"

Despite the fights he and Flynn had been having, he knew they still intensely cared for each other. Maybe it was that intensity that was ruining them. Maybe it was the sudden fear of actually beating Venjix and spreading across the globe that was ruining them.

Regardless of what it was, he knew for a fact that their current situation was not helping Flynn in the least. The Blue Ranger had lost Gemma, Dillon was in a coma, and Tenaya was waltzing around their base; just about everything Flynn could ever wish to prevent was happening right before his eyes.

—_**And How I Lost You—**_

It was done.

Venjix was gone, Corinth was free—hell, the world was free—but with the end of the power rangers came the end of their bonds. Despite what each of them said, they knew that when they were spread across the globe, they would not call. They would not stay in touch. They would not regroup. They were done.

The wounds inflicted in the last battle with the Venjix virus were far beyond physical and far beyond healing.

Flynn could easily remember the way things crumbled after the battle. It was evident that Dillon and Flynn both had separate paths to take. He had tried to offer a place to stay for Dillon and Tenaya, whom he'd gotten to know a bit better.

Unfortunately, she understandingly wanted a life away from computers, which complicated living at a computer networking shop for the city.

Deep down inside, though, he knew the reason was that Tenaya knew about Dillon's feelings for Flynn. She knew the two men had decided they were better as friends, but also knew neither meant it. So she was trying to help. She was trying to help them keep their promises of friendship. Without a formal break up. It wasn't working, but she could try.

"No more series operators," Summer sighed. "What next?"

Flynn noted the perkiness in her voice.

"Ziggy and I are starting a school for kids," Dr. K answered smugly, standing next to the aforementioned man.

"Ziggy?" Summer asked.

Even Flynn was amused by the use of the former green ranger's actual name, but it did not put out the flame of curiosity he felt toward Summer's sudden happiness. Surely she was upset to see everyone go.

"Well, he's not a series operator anymore, so, I have to call him something. I suppose Ziggy will suffice," the doctor responded.

"Well, um…I hate to break this up," Dillon sighed, "but um…we gotta get going."

Even Scott was curious as to where the hybrid siblings would run off to in a gravely undeveloped world.

But then it hit Flynn. Summer was going with them. She was going with Dillon. He knew she was leaving, he knew she was going to go out and help rebuild; he did _not_ know, however, that she was going with Dillon.

When the two of them shook hands, Flynn fought the electrical impulse running through his veins. Surely Dillon wasn't the only person who could do that to him.

"Yeah, take care," he said shortly to Dillon.

When they finally left, he coughed at the fumes of the Fury, but only to keep the sight of his tears from the others. He wiped those bright eyes on his sleeve and tried his hardest to suppress the visions he was having of Dillon. Even with his flawed human memory, he could recall every detail of Dillon…but most painfully so were those eyes, and every human characteristic captured within them.

_**Everything was everything  
But, baby, it's the last show  
Everything could be everything  
But it's time to say goodbye  
So get your last hit  
And your last fix  
Grab your old girl with her new tricks  
Honey, yeah, it's no surprise  
That I got lost  
In your Brown Eyes**_

_The song "Brown Eyes" is by Lady Gaga._

_So I apologize profusely for the severe delay in this installment. Not only did it take forever to write, but I've been without internet and whatnot, so it was difficult to upload; even as I type, I'm stealing internet from my neighbors, lol. Anyway, this **is** in fact the end of the road for "Bruises." I enjoyed writing it, I loved your reviews, and I can only hope you all get the same sense of satisfaction from it that I do. _

_Don't kill me for the not-so-happy ending!  
_


End file.
